


New Threats

by SomedayonBroadway



Series: The New Kid [2]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Child Abuse, LOTS of violence, Race has been through some stuff, Refuge, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 10:28:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16931571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomedayonBroadway/pseuds/SomedayonBroadway
Summary: He'd been running for too long. The past was bound to catch up with him at some point.





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This is a request I got... who knows how long ago. It is a companion to The New Kid! If you haven't read it, don't worry, this story will just be a bit more suspenseful, I guess. But, if you want to be a little less confused, reading The New Kid would certainly be of help.
> 
> Okay...
> 
> Please don't kill me...
> 
> Enjoy!

_"Please... please don't do this! I'll do anything! Please!"_

_Anthony covered his ears as best he could. He was shaking and holding his breath, begging for it all to go away. He didn't want to let the cries out. He didn't want anyone to hear him. He screwed his eyes shut tight and pressed himself into his brother's chest. Arms wrapped around him and held him tightly._

_It was a woman this time. One with long red hair and deep brown eyes. His father called her a whore. One without a real reason to live. But Anthony knew better than that. Everyone had a reason to live. No one should be allowed to scream like she was. Like they_ all _did. They shouldn't have to beg for mercy at the beginning, only giving up and begging for death by the end._

_Hands held his own over his ears, creating a thicker barrier between his brain and the awful noises. The evil man was torturing her with his silence. Not speaking, only sharpening a knife on the other side of the room._

_Vinnie was begging him to let them out. To let them go upstairs. He only glared at them, continuing in his work and ignoring his sons, forcing them to watch in agonizing horror. The woman begged. She screamed. She spoke of a child. Unborn and innocent. But the man simply did not care._

_Anthony whimpered. He didn't understand why this happened. Why his father did this. Why he had to watch. He just wanted to get out. He hated the screams and the way they all inevitably ended in a deafening silence._

_She was in a box. One that the small boy had seen the inside of before, if only for a few hours of the evil old man trying to get him to scream. He'd seen the stains of blood and the nail scratches inside. He'd seen the ways people had tried to suffocate themselves before their captor could hurt them anymore. Anthony had seen it all. All the different ways the man liked to torture and kill._

_"Vinnie..." The child breathed, terrified by the woman's pleads for her life. Terrified for the way his father's eyes gleamed with wonder and curiosity. And when that knife was lifted from its place against those rocks, the child turned in the embrace he was in. He buried his face in his big brother's chest, letting the older boy wrap him up and protect him. But suddenly, with a blood curdling scream of the woman inside a wooden coffin, those arms no longer felt safe. And as everything else faded away, Anthony crawled out of those arms and turned to face him. "Vinnie...?"_

_His big brother's face was contorted into a crazed daze. A menacing smile took up almost his whole face and his bright blue eyes were wide, not blinking. Almost dead. "Don't leave, Tony... you have no where else to go." The words echoed in the child's ears as suddenly he was in a different basement. One that he would spend countless nights locked inside._

_The door was slammed and Anthony was left with nothing but the sickening image of the devil taking his big brother. The one who'd always promised to protect him. The one he missed dearly everyday of his life. He could hear screams of a woman above him. Not dying. Little Anthony didn't want to think about what tortures she would be put through that night. So he ran to a corner and curled into himself, shoving his hands over his ears and trying desperately to block out the noise. To make it all go away._

_That was when he heard it._

"Race!"

_Anthony flinched. The name was familiar. As was the voice. But it was all so far away._

"Race, wake up! C'mon, kid!"

_He screamed as the entire world around him began to fall apart. And suddenly, echoes of violent last screeches could be heard as they fought for their lives. As they desperately begged him- a small child- for help. It was loud, painful even. And before Anthony knew it, his head was exploding in pain, the begging and shouting and creepy laughs simply too much for him to bare. He felt like he was drowning. And the noise wouldn't stop, only growing louder. Until-_

**"Race!"**

Racetrack sat up bolt right, coughing and heaving hard as he desperately clawed for air. He couldn't breathe. It was all too much. He could vaguely feel a thin blanket pooled around him, but for the life of him he couldn't see it. His vision was clouded with horrified tears and he held back a sob as he clutched for the blanket, his knuckles going white at the grip.

He could feel the eyes on him, boring into him as he panicked, gasping for air. He didn't dare look up, hearing the whispers of what they should do and their shocked murmurs of pity. He couldn't move, frozen in fear; Completely paralyzed. That is, until someone's gentle fingers brushed up against his knees. In blind hysterics, Race shoved whoever it was trying to hurt him away. He scrambled backwards, desperate to get away. All he managed was creating a loud _thud_ as he hit the floor.

It all hurt so bad. The visions he'd seen flashed in his mind and the screams echoed in his ears, ending in his own. Grasping at his own blond curls, he futilely attempted to claw the vivid nightmare from his brain as blood seemed to enter his line of sight. All he could see was blood and he felt nauseous at the illusion.

Only... it wasn't.

As his vision began to become real again, he saw the red substance on his hands. Immediately, he began to feel lightheaded. If it wasn't for a familiar voice speaking above the memories of the terrified screams, Race may have been lost in another nightmare.

"Racetrack... it's me... it's Jack, ya hear?" The blond boy fought to tear his eyes away from his hands. There wasn't much of it. But that red color made Race lose it. So when he looked up at the boy that had promised to be his brother so long ago, his breaths only quickened.

There was a thin red waterfall streaming from the older boy's nose. He didn't seem to notice or care at the moment. His hands were up as a sign of surrender and peace while he carefully lowered himself to his knees in front of his friend. "Calm down, kid. _Breathe_..." Jack whispered. "It's okay..."

Race twitched from lack of oxygen and Jack's eyes widened before he took a gasp of air, trying and failing to hold back the sobs that wanted to take over his body. "Jack-" he choked, cutting himself off, ignoring the fact that every boy in the Lodge was watching him, scared for him.

Or _of_ him. Race shuddered.

"Racer, I'm okay... ya didn't mean it. It's alright..."

He didn't know if it was alright. Still trembling and nauseous, he looked around, finding everyone simply staring at him. He felt so exposed at that moment. Like they _knew_. Like they knew who he really was and where he'd come from. Without a word, he shot up off the ground and reached for a box under his bed. With a cigar and a light in his hand, the shaken boy made a run for the window, shoving it open and closed behind him as he let himself breathe in a bit of fresh air on the fire escape before filling his lungs with the smoke it longed for.

Those images wouldn't leave him alone. He sat next the window, his back against the wall and his knees pulled up to his chest. He tried to block them out. Block everything out. The screams and the fears. The way his brothers piercing blue eyes looked with that vicious, possessed smile of his.

_"You have no where else to go..."_

Race whimpered and dropped his prized cigar, his hands flying up to his ears as he tried to make it stop. His eyes slammed shut but that didn't stop him from seeing faces everywhere. Men, women... _children_. The children were never on purpose. Only substitutes for whoever the evil man had really been after. But that never stopped him from going at his stupid experiments with them.

They never lasted long.

The traumatized boy jumped a foot in the air when he heard a small tap beside him on the window, his hands not doing much to block out the noise. But when he saw Jack inside, his entire body relaxed immediately. It wasn't seconds before Jack was by his side, slinging an arm over his shoulders and pulling the trembling kid into his side.

"I-I'm sorry..." Race brokenly apologized, noting that the blood indeed was gone. But Jack just shook his head.

"Kid... ya didn't know who I was. Ya had a nightmare. These things happen," he encouraged, smiling down at his brother. But the boy was still shaking. He was still terrified. So Jack sighed. "Wanna talk about it?"

Frantically, Racetrack shook his head. "N-no... I wanna forget it..." he spoke stubbornly, yet his voice still trembled and his eyes stung with tears.

The matter wasn't pressed any more. And Race found himself able to clear his mind for a minute, slowly reaching back to reality with his brother's arm around him. He felt safe there. His hands found the cigar he'd dropped moments earlier and he brought the thing back up to his lips, feeling himself calm at the smoke that entered his body and warmed him up.

That was when the bell started ringing.

Disappointment was shown as Race's body slumped forward. He was exhausted. If anything, he wished he had a few more minutes of sitting alone with Jack. But that damn bell had to ruin everything. So he sat still as Jack lightly slapped him on the back and stood to his feet. "C'mon, pal. Them papes won't sell themselves..."

Reluctantly, Race complied. And into the Lodge they went to get ready for the day.

To say Jack was worried was an understatement. He could hear the screams through the floor even before Specs had come running. Race hadn't had such a nightmare in months.

Their secret had been kept. It had been kept for years. No one questioned anything. No one knew who Race really was. And no one knew that Jack was harboring him, protecting him from people who would likely want to do more than just hurt him. People with vendettas and the law on their side. People like the _Spider._ So they were careful. So very careful.

But it couldn't last forever.

"50 papes." Jack watched his younger friend slap the coins down on the table. He wasn't himself that day. It was clear to all the boys. But no one dared question that. Because their second in command was a hothead. Asking questions might've just pushed him over the edge. So Jack let him walk away while he bought his own papes, ignoring the Delanceys when they tried to get a rise out of him, instead choosing to run after his friend and knock his cap down over his eyes.

A small smile made its way to Race's lips at that. And be bumped Jack with his shoulder, playfully. "I swear I'm fine, Kelly," he said.

Jack nodded. "I know." And that was it. Then Jack slung an arm around Race's shoulders as they made their way through the gates, ready for the day ahead of them.

Or not.

It was a slow day. Maybe that was because Race was having trouble paying attention to the world around him rather than the world of his past. He could still see it all so vividly. The terrible visions would always haunt him.

Always.

They had for years. Mostly he would wake up with a hand over his mouth, desperate to keep him quiet and prevent him from spilling his secrets out. Then he'd latch onto Jack and let his big brother calm him before they went back to sleep. It was the same old routine. But that morning... it was bad.

Race tried to forget about it. He tried to remind himself that every newsie had a past. Most of them were told. He knew their stories. But his was to remain a mystery to them. That's just the way it had to be.

The poor kid trudged along the streets. He sold a pape every now and again. He liked the way the coins felt in his pocket. But it wasn't exactly enough to make a living. So he continued on. He had to. If he didn't, he'd be sleeping on the streets. He'd be caught by the-

"Leave me alone!" Race froze. He knew that voice. "I didn't do nothin'!"

_Oh hell no..._

Race dropped his papes and took off running. Sure enough, in an alleyway was where he saw the scene that made panic shoot through his entire body.

"Stop fighting, brat! Don't make this harder than it has to be!" The bulls were closing in. Backing a very small, very innocent boy into a wall, cuffs dangling from their evil hands, their stone hearts not beating as the terror ran through that small kid.

"Romeo..." Race was about to stop it. He was about to take on the bulls, three to one. If it hadn't been for a low, quiet whistle at the other end of that tiny alleyway, he would've done it. That whistle... it was a newsie code. One that Race wished he hadn't heard. But his terrified eyes tore away from his little brother- the one he himself had found shivering in the snow- and found his big brother, sneaking his way behind some dumpsters.

Everything about this made Race's blood run cold. He could hear screams in his head. _No no no no no... not Jack... not the Refuge... not again..._ Jack was gonna distract them so Race could get Romeo out of there. Jack was gonna get himself caught. Jack was going to get hurt _again_. The Spider _hated_ Jack.

The blond boy felt himself shaking with anticipation. Shaking with adrenaline of what he was about to do. Because Jack was about to run up behind them. So Race did the one thing he vowed never to do. The one thing he promised Jack he wouldn't do. He brought attention onto himself.

"Hey! Leave him alone!"

Jack froze. _No..._ His forest green eyes were huge and terrified as he tore his gaze from little Romeo and found that Racetrack, the one boy that Jack had always had trouble protecting, stepped into plain sight. His brother was an idiot. And that could be the thing that would get him killed. _Please, God... no..._

"Well, well, well..."

Jack couldn't breathe. The world was taunting him. Teasing him. Trying to break him. He shoved himself further back into his hiding place at that voice and lost sight of the scene, hating himself for the terror that surged through his entire body.

Race had half a mind to turn and run. _What the hell are you doin', Higgins?! Get out!_ He was taught to survive. Survive. When things start to get bad, get out. Survive. Run. Get away! But his legs wouldn't move. His little brother was standing just inches away from him and the little boy was terrified. The kid was shaking and Race was powerless to stop that. But he'd be damned if he was about to let the man stepping out of the carriage take him away.

Snyder.

His shoulders tensed as the man walked to him. He was surrounded and he knew it. But he couldn't move. Couldn't attempt to fight his way out. Not until he saw it. Romeo. The kid slipped away. He ran for his life, clearly terrified and hoping Race would just be able to miraculously follow him. It wasn't until hands began touching him that the hotheaded Italian did what he did best. He started making stupid decisions. He pushed against them. He shoved them backwards. Suddenly there was no other good description for how Race felt other than like a caged animal.

"Aww what do we have here?"

Helplessly, Racetrack pushed against the three guards around him only to get his arms seized. He was held at the wrists and the forearms. He was closed in, a man on all sides of him and a Spider standing with a sick smirk on his face right in front of him.

The sixteen year old had never felt so small in his life. As his chin was grabbed, he struggled. The grips they had on him only tightened. "No..." the man breathed in disbelief. Race could feel the hot breath on his skin. He could smell the rum and smoke. He tried to wrench his face away from the man, but Snyder would not let go. His dark, evil eyes were wide in amazement as if he'd just made a discovery. It was as if he was about to cage an animal that people had never believed existed. "It can't be..."

The child tried to fight. The grip hurt and the men were too close. He wasn't getting out of this. He was trapped. It was all over.

Out of the corner of his eye, Race could see him. He could see Jack. The older boy was crawling out of his hiding place, utterly terrified. All Race could do was let the tears fall as their eyes locked for a second. He wanted to tell him... _Thank you... thank you for saving me, Jackie... goodbye, big brother..._ But it was too late. The grin was splitting into Snyder's face. So he let the tears fall as the man reached for his cuffs.

"You're a spitting image..."

Race gasped as metal tightly pinched his skin. He flinched as they secured more cuffs around his ankles. He was sure he could hardly walk with them on, much less run.

"Take him away!"

" _No!_ " The scream was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Jack was standing by then, watching as they dragged away the boy he vowed to protect no matter what. And Race shook his head at him, unable to move anything else as Snyder dropped his chin. All he could do was mouth a small apology before he quickly tripped the guard that made a move to get to the older boy across the alleyway.

Snyder shook his head as Jack jerked backwards. One of his guards fell flat on their face as the boy in his clutches somehow managed to slid his foot out far enough to trip him. As much as he hated that Kelly boy, this was much too important. So he grabbed onto the back of the fallen man's shirt and hauled him up. "Get him out of here. This'll be all for today."

And that was all the warning Race got before he watched his brother fade from view as he was shoved into the back of a steal carriage; One with prison bars across the windows and chains dangling from the walls. Before he could protest, dangerous hands shoved him down onto a seat and he was suddenly trapped between the corner and a man that surely wanted him dead, much like the rest of the world.

"Stay quiet, _rat_. You don't want to make things worse before they've started."

Race cowered at the threat. All he could do was stare straight at the ground, letting tears fall from his eyes. The boy didn't protest when a hood was pulled over his head. He just shook as whimpered as the prison car began moving.

This was the end. And Race knew it...

_His hand brushed up against her cheek as it shook. It was all too clear to him. He could see it all. Her auburn hair that framed her once happy and light face. Her unseeing green eyes that used to stand out against perfect skin. A lost smile that had been forced away from a girl; Once a light of sunshine, now only a beautiful, golden memory. One that hurt to think about it._

_Grey skin faded behind bright red cuts and horrible bruises. She lay lifeless on the cold, hard ground, her own blood surrounding her with wounds she hadn't been able to stop. Fingernails were missing and fingers were sliced open. Her lip was caked with dried blood as was her left ear._

_Once upon a time, she had been the girl that every man would turn to as she walked into the room. Beauty and poise radiating off of her like she was a new star. One that had so much time left to burn and glow._

_"Sophia..." Saying her name was like getting stabbed in her heart with realization that she wouldn't respond._

_"Is this your sister?"_

_His baby sister._ Sophia _. The little girl that he had protected with everything he had. The one he'd argue with and banter with because they never saw eye to eye. The one that he'd loved. The only thing in the world he cared for at all. Everyone and everything else be damned. Sophia was his light._

_Tears in his eyes were stinging and beginning to pool. But he refused to cry. Not with officers still there. Not with his fellow men still watching him, knowing full well this would change things. Knowing full well who this young woman was._

_"Who did this?" It was a growl. The sorrow leaving him all too quickly and being replaced with anger. Sophia... she wasn't supposed to die. She wasn't supposed to be dead._

_Silence only made the man more furious. He pulled away fast and turned to the men, his face most likely going red. "Who?!" he demanded, more desperate than before._

_One officer looked to another. They shared a look of heartbreak and fear. The man glared back and forth between them before they sighed and one finally muttered, "Higgins strikes again..."_

_Tomorrow's headline for sure. One that would be sold in a flash._

Higgins...

_The man almost vomited then and there. But he couldn't. He was strong. He always had been. And now, the only good part of his life was gone. The only light in a sea of dark was faded and blown out. Gone._

_He had no need to be soft anymore._

_"Find him." The command was so obvious it would be funny in any other situation. But then, right then, it was said too dangerously and lowly to be joked about. And it was clear that those two words would be what the man lived by from that day on._

_It was all he could think when that coffin was lowered into the ground and he began burying her. And when it was done, all that was left were meaningless roses and letters saying that she would be missed. It didn't matter. Because she wasn't coming back. Nothing mattered anymore. Everything he'd worked for in life was now six feet beneath him, pained and alone and not done living yet. She shouldn't have been done living yet._

_He stood there. He could see it too clearly. It was supposed to be a nightmare. But when the rain started falling, it was painfully real. He wasn't opposed to the downpour. After all, it masked his mourning and pathetic weaknesses._

_And all he could do was stare at the stone that marked her resting peace. "In Loving Memory of a Beloved Daughter, Sister, and Friend..._

_Sophia Snyder..."_

Snyder smirked at his prey, in his clutches for the first time. And damn if felt good. He was gonna pay. Somebody had to pay. And this boy was the perfect picture of his father. The one who'd taken her from him. The one that had heartlessly put her six feet under.

He'd lost track of how long he'd been looking for one of them. One of the man's sons. For surely, even monsters had to have something they held dear. And this little boy had to be it. It had to be him.

He watched as they beat him. He smiled as he screamed and laughed when he begged them to stop. The boy was terrified. What Snyder wouldn't have given to see the boy's father do the same. To hear his pleads as he wasted away. But eventually, Snyder knew what he had to do. What would be even more satisfying.

"Enough!" And they threw the child down into the chair across from him. Snyder grinned.

The man stared him down and Race sat there, making it a point not to look him. He felt so vulnerable. So _exposed_. Like the man could see right through him. So he fiddled with the cuffs that held his hands close together. The ones that made it hard to fight his way out.

_"Breathe, kid. I know it feels like you're trapped, but you're okay..."_

Jack's voice echoed in his brain. The only thing keeping him calm in the silence. Only this time, he was trapped. This time, Jack wasn't able to get him out of the Spider's reach. This time, Race was scared.

"Anthony Higgins..."

The name send chills down Race's spine. His head spun as he reminded himself to breathe. He tried his best not to react. He did everything he could to remain calm and collected. But the pounding of his head made that difficult. And the aching of his limbs made the tears hard to hold back.

"That ain't my name..." he whispered, terrified of being too loud. Terrified of being punished for something he didn't do. _Just like always..._

A cynical laugh was what he got in response. The newsboy flinched when something slammed down on the desk on front of him. He didn't dare look at it. His hands were far more interesting. Those cuffs were digging into his thin wrists. There were exactly three chains in between them, holding them close together, immobilizing him just enough to make him feel helpless as a man- bigger and stronger than him- circled him, like a lion stalking its prey. He quickly realized the mistake he'd made when a fist latched onto his hair and forced him forward. He gritted his teeth together. He wouldn't scream. Not if it gave that man pleasure. Pain was less important than keeping in the fear.

His head was exploding in pain. He could feel blood seeping down the side of his face and dripping onto what had been slammed down on the desk for him to see. Red stood out brightly against an old newspaper. One that Racetrack had seen so many times. "You mean to tell me..." The man's voice was rough and smelled of alcohol. The boy did his best not to gag. He had no choice but to watch the man angrily point to the picture on the page that Race wished beyond anything he could forget about. " _That_ , isn't you?"

It was like looking in a mirror. Only the mirror reflected back a younger version of him. But the look in his eyes was equal in every way. Lost, terrified, helpless... _trapped_.

The picture was a memory he'd live with forever. He remembered that day. He was being chased. He had been alone and wide eyed when the flash had blinded him. If it wasn't for a hand grabbing his arm and pulling him away, Race was sure he would have been a goner.

But Vinnie wasn't here to pull him out of danger now. Not that he even would if he could. Because Vinnie wasn't the brother Race liked to remember. Not the one who protected him and held him close. No, because that job had been taken.

Staying stubbornly silent, Race tried to focus on anything but the pain. But it wasn't long before his face was shoved down onto the desk he was held over. The boy let out a cry before his hair was pulled back and he was forced to look up. For a moment, he was blind. Tears pricked at his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling before his view was obscured by his captor.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you, _boy_!" Race hissed. He squinted his eyes as much as he could, trying to ease the pain in his head, only succeeding in making it worse. But the way the man glared at him made a bit of his defiance shine through as he could only glare back.

"Go ta hell!" he spat through clenched teeth. All that got him was a cruel smack across his cheek. The fist in his hair did not loosen. Not until his head was thrown backwards and the man started circling him once again, his eyes traveling up and down the boy who did everything he could to not squirm in his seat.

The man watched his captive. It was clear in his eyes that he was beyond terrified. As he should be. After years of searching, he finally had him. "It would serve you well to learn some respect, young Anthony." He stopped in front of the boy. He was a spitting image... So Warden Snyder smiled and kneeled down to him, seizing his wrists in his hands and grinning wickedly as he clicked the cuffs tighter around the kid's wrists. "Or else things might become worse for you..."

Race didn't dare look the man in the eyes. _"He don't got no soul. His eyes is empty an' if ya look in 'em, he can see you's is scared."_

Stories from the Refuge always kept the boys up at night. Race was always wide awake after Jack told them. He'd been there too many times and that much was clear to Race. After all, a lot of those times it had been to protect _him_.

 _"If they catch you, Race... if_ Snyda' _catches you..."_

Jack had never had it in him to finish that sentence. It always ended with him reaching through the bars of the windows to caress his cheek and run a hand through his hair.

Race tried to get lost in the memory. He tried to imagine that Jack was there, telling him it was all okay. But that was hard when the hands in his hair weren't there to calm him down and tell him his big brother was there watching out for him. They were there to render him powerless.

"I told ya, that ain't my name..." the boy mumbled. He wanted to struggle, but as the cuffs were now tighter than they had been before, even the slightest movement would cause him nothing but pain. But when his chin was grabbed and forced up, his hands slipped and he could do nothing but let out a choked cry.

Jack was right. The man's eyes were practically dead. And Race felt his blood run cold. He was terrified. And there was no hiding it anymore. "Then tell me, _boy_..." That tone was icy and dangerous. And Race tried to make himself stop shaking when Snyder gestured to one of his men. The door opened but Race didn't turn. His wrists and ankles hurt too bad. He was sure that blood wasn't reaching his hands and feet anymore. But then something was dropped to the ground. Something big and heavy that made the child flinch. "This doesn't look familiar to you?"

Before the boy could protest, his chin was shoved to the side. And horror seemed to fill up the entire room, drowning the child before he even realized what was about to happen. He was too busy struggling to keep memories away.

_"Please! Let me out! You don't wanna do this!"_

_"I have a family! They need me!"_

_"¡Por favor! ¡Haré lo que sea!"_

_"Mama! Papà!"_

Race couldn't breathe. He couldn't feel that his entire body was shaking. In fact, his entire body went numb as he shoved himself as far away from the coffin that lay in front of him. The cuffs around his wrists and ankles would never hurt as much as his past. His back hit the wall and everything started closing in on him when he realized there was no where else to go.

Snyder grinned as his prey gave himself away. After all, it was only a box. A crate big enough for an average man to be able to lay down inside. But there would be no wiggle room. It was a box that had a story that came with it. One that made a sixteen-year-old boy relive memories of his past.

The boy looked like a mouse caught in a trap. His eyes were wide and petrified. Those blue orbs were staring at that godforsaken box across the room. His nails dug into his knees in attempt to keep him calm. But nothing worked. And Snyder couldn't help but chuckle at the reaction.

"Wh-where...?" Race was breathless, his was heart racing as he couldn't tear his eyes away from the old wooden thing on the ground. "Where did you get that...?" It filled him to the brim with horrific memories of screams and pleads and _desperation_. The lid was closed but Race could see into it anyways. He saw so many pairs of lifeless eyes and dried tears and raw hands and feet. But most of the time... they hadn't even been gone yet. Most of the time the man that laughed at their cries wasn't even finished. He had more in store for them. More ways to put them through hell before he vowed to send them there for good.

The laugh that he got in response sent chills through his whole body. "You tell me, Mr. Higgins." Race's blue eyes shot up to meet the cruel brown ones that stared him down. This time, the tears rolled down his cheeks and he couldn't stop them. His cuffed hands were up in front of his chest and his knees were brought up just the same. Race wanted to hide. He wanted everything to stop. So he closed his eyes and hide his face in his knees, not prepared for the images that his brain was about to show him.

_All he could see was a dark basement. No windows and a hidden door that he couldn't find by himself. A shadow lurked in the corner and banging was heard, even as he covered his ears as tightly as he could._

_"It's okay, Tony... I'll get us out of here..."_

_The little boy shook his head as sobs wracked his body. And then he closed his eyes tight to try and block it all out. But he opened them up to find that shadow staring back at him with deadly blue eyes._

_"Stop!"_

"Stop!" Race cried, begging Snyder to leave him alone. "Please! Get it away! Please... I-" Race stopped. He was breathing hard. He grasped his hands in his hair and buried his face in his knees. "I can't..." his voice broke as he begged. Snyder didn't have any idea the memories he was digging up. Ones that Race had locked away. Ones that he made sure not to think about when he was around his brothers. The ones who trusted him. _The one's who couldn't know._

But Snyder's hand grabbed onto his wrists, making the boy in his grasp cry out as the metal dug into his already torn skin. "Get up!"

He didn't have a choice. Three men were there against him. Three men were there grabbing onto his arms and legs. And suddenly, Race knew what Snyder was playing at. He knew the plan and he knew the end game.

He wasn't making it back to Jack.

His pleads were eaten alive by laughs and commands for him to stop squirming. "No! Don't do this! I ain't done nothin'!" His voice was raspy and shook with every word. But his screams were loud and agonizing as that torturous box was opened. Chains locked him in place as he struggled vigorously against the men that lifted him off the ground and he was feeling more helpless by the second. Every step forced him closer to his own living nightmare and before he knew it, he was inside it, staring up at an evil man getting more and more rich by the second by ripping young children away from everything they knew.

The boy was heaving for air as he stared up at his captor from the crate, silently begging him to leave him alone. Instinctively, he tried to sit up, hearing an old voice screaming in his mind.

_"No! Let him out! Please! I'm sorry! Tony!"_

_"Vinnie!"_

"Vinnie!" Race screamed as he was shoved back down. He felt sobs wracking his entire body and he struggled to get out of his restraints. "Jack!"

"Stop fighting, _rat_! This is what you deserve!"

The child was frantic, constantly sitting up only to be pushed back down. His energy was fading fast. "No... please... I didn't do this..." It was all he could manage as Snyder glared at him, his false polite smile gone, replaced with bitterness and anger.

"That's what your father said." And that was the last thing Race heard. And the last thing he saw was accusing eyes of a man with a vendetta. Then the lid was slammed shut.

And Race couldn't breathe.

Jack paced the floor of the Lodge. He ran hands through his hair as he coached himself in breathing through the tears that were streaming down his face.

_"Race, run!"_

His own shouts echoed in his head. The ones he'd screamed so many times. It hurt. He winced and squated down to the ground. He could hardly hold himself up anymore. It was all too much.

Race never listened. Why couldn't Race just _listen to him?_

_"Stay away from the bulls, Race. You see one, you get away!"_

"C'mon, Kelly..." he hissed to himself. "Think, damn it..." He pinched the bridge of his nose. He had to get to Race. He had to find his brother. He had to stop Snyder from-

 _No..._ he couldn't think it. That meant it could already be happening. That meant he could already be too late. He could already be too late! "Dammit!" He shoved the closest thing he could reach in the room. It was a table in the center of the room. The small, circular thing fell over without much of a fight. And the thud made Jack jump. He was hysterical. Absolutely distraught by the thoughts filling his mind; Race chained up in the basement, beaten and terrified and hardly able to move. His friend's head being shoved into a bucket full of water, forcing all the air out of his lungs. His _brother_ screaming out for mercy as Snyder laughed over him.

Everything was spinning. "This can't be happenin'..." In his panic, his thoughts were too loud for him to hear the door creak open and small feet to pad across the floor before arms wrapped around his waist.

"I'm sorry, Jack..."

The older boy's heart broke. "It ain't your fault, kid... none of it..." Slowly, he turned around and lifted the ten-year-old kid off the ground. The boys big brown eyes were so watery. But Jack only caught a glimpse of them before the boy's face was pressed into the crook of his neck and he let the slow sobs come.

"I-I really didn' do nothin'..." he cried out. All Jack could do was rock him back and forth and bounce him up and down in his arms. Romeo was the baby of their rowdy family. The poor kid was too innocent to see the inside of that hellhole. "They's said I stole but I really didn't do nothin'..."

"I know, kid," Jack agreed, easily. _Neither did Race..._ Truly. All that impulsive kid had ever done wrong was be born into the wrong family.

God, he had to get them out of there.

"Is Race gonna be okay?"

Jack's heart shattered as that little boy in his arms looked up at him with pleading eyes, begging him to tell him what he wanted to hear.

Lying was a dangerous thing to do.

"Yeah, pal..." Jack nodded, teary eyed. "Race'll be just fine..."

So he vowed to make sure he hadn't done just that to the small child he held. He would get Race out.

He didn't have a choice.

"Mi dispiace! Per favore, lasciami uscire! Non sono lui!"

Snyder grinned as he continued his paperwork. The coffin still lay in his office. The screaming child was enough to bring him entertainment as he did his work. The kid was banging on the wood, desperate to get out. As anyone would. That box was not a place one would want to be caught in.

Her hands had been raw when they'd found her. This proved his theory of why.

The wails, he was sure, were being heard throughout the building. That kid had been begging for hours, by then. And Snyder didn't give a damn. It was clear to him that soon, all he'd be able to hear would be sniffles and quiet sobs until the kid wore himself out. Couldn't be long now.

"Non sono lui!" Race screamed, his face soaked with pained, terrified tears. His wrists were a bloody mess. The cuffs dug into them as he frantically pounded on the ceiling of his prison. He hated tight spaces. The reason, of course, was none other than the tiny box he was trapped in now. "Non sono lui..." He wasn't him. He hadn't done anything wrong. Only watched helplessly as the wrongs had been done. It wasn't his fault...

That's what Jack always said. It was what Jack always said when he woke up screaming a name he'd never forget. He'd never forgotten any of their names. In fact, him and Vinnie had tried to help them escape. They had. But it was no use. They were always caught and then one of them would be punished.

He used to tell them he loved them. That he was doing all of this to make the world a better place. He was sick. He had to have been. That's why his mama left. It had to be why. He was sick and there was no way of helping him.

Race shivered at the thought of his mother. That bloody thought... the gory sight was engraved in his mind forever. He knew what people did to Higgins'. He'd seen it with his own young, once slightly innocent eyes. And he was scared.

"Please..." the child whispered out. He got no response. "Ple-ease..." he whimpered a bit louder, his kicks and hopeless fits dying down. "I'll do whateva' ya wan'... just lemme outta here..."

The grin on the Spider's face was incomparable. He let his pen fall onto his desk as he pushed his chair out and slowly made his way over to the box. "I want you to suffer, like all of those people did. The ones that your father murdered for no good reason!"

Race flinched. It was no use trying to hide it anymore. He was a Higgins. The youngest. The one who would carry the guilt with him until the day he died.

"Who did he take from you?"

Racetrack may have been an idiot, but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. No one would go through such lengths as to get this specific crate of torture, if not for revenge. Revenge was all Race knew anymore. No matter how long he spent with his boys, he was still raised by a maniac. He had enemies that shouldn't have been his own. And that was terrible and frightening in itself.

"What was their name?" he asked a bit louder at the stunned silence he got in response. Admittedly, Snyder was a bit taken back at the question. He simply stared at the box with three locks on each side of it. He could practically hear her scream for release. Beg for her freedom. It wasn't fair. "I can tell you everything. What they said... how they looked... wh-what he did to them..."

He couldn't forget. He wanted to more than anything else. To forget the names and the faces and the voices. But he couldn't. It was all too much for a child barely sixteen years of age to bare.

Snyder didn't care. He leaned down to the box, pulling his knife out of his back pocket. Without warning, he stabbed the thing through the wood, earning a bloodcurdling cry from the frightened boy beneath him. "Burn in hell, you rat." And with that, he left his office, satisfied for the time being and ready to play with another one of the many children he'd ripped away from the world.


	2. Part Two

_He could see her. Her curly brown hair and her dull grey eyes. She was wearing the same necklace she'd been wearing the day she'd left. It was a cross. She'd always prayed things would get better. They never did. Somehow they'd always managed to get worse. He'd start yelling in her face and then his hand would manage to raise up. She'd brace herself for the impact that she was about to review but it would never come. He loved them. He'd loved her. He just didn't know how to show it._

_Anthony was on his knees. He'd dropped there when he'd seen her. The man standing above her had cold eyes. Ones that were broken and hopeless. But the little boy didn't care._

_"Mama!" he screamed, his throat tightening and his vision blurred with tears. She had blood all over her. Cuts and bruises littered her once porcelain skin. That was where the stones had had hit her. Because if she had been with the devil himself, then the devil had become part of her too. And they had to get rid of that._

_That meant Anthony had the devil in him too. That's why so many people were out to get him. That was why so many people wanted him dead or alive. They wanted to torture Satan out of him before they killed him, mostly. That was what they had done to her._

_"You see this, Higgins?!" The man over her body had tears streaming down his face. Anthony wondered where his brother was. Surely Vinnie wouldn't let him continue staring at the awful scene before him if he'd known. "This is comin' fer you too!" He was screaming at nothing. They were in the middle of the street. The man in question was no where to be found. In fact, Anthony hadn't seen him in months. Not since Vinnie and him had finally found a way out._

_The small child gasped as the man began to walk closer to where he was kneeling, tightening his arms around himself. He hid his little body behind garbage cans and silently begged the universe to be kind to him for a change. But he heard the footsteps getting closer and closer. His heart as beating so fast it was a miracle he was still alive. Surely he should've died of a heart attack by now. But the boy squeezed his eyes shut, only able to see the mangled, bloodied mess of his mother before him as he tried to figure out what to do, before someone grabbed his arm._

_"Anthony!"_

_Blue eyes shot open to meet older ones. "Vinnie!" He couldn't stop himself before launching into his big brother's arms. "She's gone... mama's dead..."_

_"I know, T... c'mon!" the older boy urged, his voice full of rage and concern all at once. The tone sounded odd for a second, like it was coming from the wrong person. Like he was in the wrong persons arms. But little Anthony just held on a bit tighter. "We gotta go before they find ya too!"_

_And off they went. Anthony didn't tear his eyes off of the heap of a dead body on the streets until she was completely out of view._

_"I'm sorry, mama..."_

Immediately, the first thing Race did when consciousness came back to him was attempt to sit up. He groaned as he hit his head on the wood above him. He could see the blood stain there from when multiple people had probably attempted to do that exact same thing. He couldn't move after that.

The dull ache that had been in his stomach was becoming sharper and more painful than ever. The kid was starving and thirsty and his whole body shook to prove it. It had to have been days. More than just mere hours. His throat was raw with desperate pleads. Sometimes he'd hear a chuckle. Other times, it would just be silence. If there was one thing Race realized while wasting away in a wooden coffin, it was that he hated the silence.

Blood seeped from his shoulder where the knife still tore into it. The thing was still in the same place. It hadn't moved. The cut wasn't too deep, but the boy knew better than to think that wound couldn't kill him. It was sore and he was already vulnerable. He wasn't sure how much longer he had before he'd begin getting deathly sick.

In attempts to keep himself sane in the box he was still trapped in, the sixteen year old began to do something to occupy his mind. He hummed to himself. An old song that Jack sang the littles whenever they needed a laugh or a way to forget the monsters that were hiding under their beds. It was meant to get kids to smile. It only succeeded in getting Race to choke out a sob as he was long out of tears. "Jack..."

He hated that the last time he saw his big brother was with tears running down his face as they hauled him away. He hated that they had both been terrified and unable to say goodbye.

Jack was the only person he had that he trusted. The only one who'd cared that Race was human and wasn't just a Higgins...

_"You think I don't know the things he did?" Anthony whispered, his voice shaking. "He used ta make me watch..." His voice shook with so much emotion. Far too much emotion for a kid so young. "And Vinnie... Vinnie didn't used ta be like him. He use ta be my brother!" the boy sobbed out, his body shaking as he tried once again to gain control. "Then... after we ran... he started drinkin'. Gamblin'. He became a hell of an actor." The memory of losing his brother hurt like nothing else. All he wanted was his big brother back. "Told everyone he needed money so's I could eat. Trouble is... all that money ended up on the table in his next poker match."_

_The older boy was stunned. Anthony figured he was terrified. He'd probably start yelling soon, screaming that he'd found a monster and that it needed to die. The boy couldn't find it in himself to care. If Jack had said anything, Anthony hadn't listened._

_"I just thought..." the Italian boy sighed as he was finally able to catch his breath. "I just thought I could start over when Scraps found me. I'd never been anywhere but Brooklyn. But then I met the boys and I just felt like... like I could be normal."_

_"Hey, you can be," Jack promised, with a kind of sincerity in his voice. Anthony looked up at him like he was insane._

_"Jack, they'll find out who I am. My picture was in the papers. Snyder's been looking for me for years," the boy explained, sadly. "And Vinnie... I barely escaped him. He's probably gonna be lookin' for me." Tears slid down his face and all the boy could think to was let his body sag. He gasped when stronger arms wrapped around him. No one ever held him like that. Not even Vinnie..._

_"Listen ta me, kid," Jack ordered gently. "We'll give ya a newsie's name, I'll teach ya how ta sell and how ta charm your way outta any situation. You'll come back ta the lodging house and the boys'll take you in because any boy that goes in there is a brother to us." Anthony relaxed a bit in the hold, daring to believe the boy's words were true. "Ya don't need Vinnie, kid. He doesn't know what he's missin'. So's I'll promise ya somethin'." Suddenly, Jack pulled away. He held him at arms length and continued talking. "If you come back with me, I'll be your new big brother. I swear I will always look out for you and I'll teach ya how ta sell and how ta look out for the boys. But ya gotta come back."_

_"Ya really wanna be my brother?" Anthony asked in disbelief._

_That was when Jack smiled at him for the first time. "Sure, kid. You ain't no bad person," he said, wiping the tears from the kid's eyes. "You're a newsie. And I'm gonna make sure you're one of the best..."_

That felt like so long ago. That day had changed everything. Race wasn't alone anymore. That's the day Race had a family again. Someone to rely on and someone to trust in and to run to for comfort or help. Someone to love and someone to love him.

The boy took in the carvings on the lid above him. Some where painful to take in. Pleas for help, last words, anything to keep people sane from the never ending darkness and silence. He'd been in this box before, but never as the next victim. Simply as a way of teaching his older brother a lesson as he screamed and cried for freedom for about two hours before he was let out into Vinnie's arms again. This was different. This time, the lid wasn't gonna be opened for him to see his father standing in front of him, telling him he loved him and that they should know better. This time Vinnie wouldn't be standing a few feet away with open arms and tears streaming down his face. This time, he had no idea what would happen next. And that was torture enough for him.

So when the locks began making sound, Racetrack held his breath. "No... don' hurt me, please..." he whispered out to no one. Snyder definitely wouldn't have heard such a pathetic whimper.

It was no use begging. The child was much too weak anyhow. But he couldn't help the way he bit his lip to keep from letting the sobs come. He couldn't help the way he pulled on the chains one more time, hurting himself further in hopes that they'd just fall away. All he could do was let out a shaky whimper as the lid was moved aside and the knife was pulled from his skin.

"Hello there, rat..." Snyder growled with a terrible grin on his face. He took in the sight of his captive. Dried blood was everywhere. Dried tears were all over his face along with snot and fresh blood that came from the biting of his dried lips and bloody nose. He was half dead already. "I hope you enjoyed the your last three days of solitude..."

The child didn't have the energy for a quip or witty comeback, like he expected he'd do if he could. All he could do was stare dead ahead as the Spider climbed over him and did something Race had not expected.

A hand wrapped over his throat while another pressed his mouth closed, simultaneously punching his nose shut. Race couldn't breathe. He wanted to lift his hands up. He wanted to fight. He couldn't. His strength had gone with the hitting and kicking of the damn coffin he still lay inside. He made muffled pleads and noises as spots clouded his vision. "It's okay, Higgins... go to sleep..."

He didn't have a choice. Darkness consumed him and all he could do was let it take him under.

The plan was simple really. Get in, find Race, get out. He wasn't expecting it to be as difficult as it was. The first night he'd gone, only to find that there were guards in his way all the way around the building. He couldn't climb up the fire escape without being caught. The second night, he'd made it to the window, only to be told that Snyder was coming in to check on them and that he had to leave. But tonight, Jack was sure he could do this. He had to.

He could already be too late.

The Manhattan newsie snuck around to the back of the building successfully. He managed to stay silent as he made his way up the fire escape to the window he went to whenever he needed to know if one of his boys was safe. The room he was always banished to. The room that still gave so many of the toughest boys in New York terrible, heartbreaking nightmares.

The glass was like I've, but Jack knocked anyways. Then it was just a matter of time, so he stood and waited, bounding on the balls of his feet. He hated waiting. Waiting meant more things could be done to a little boy with no way of defending himself. Waiting meant more blood and more bruises and more screaming and more begging... But it took a few moments for anyone to be brave enough to open the damn window through the bars. And when they did, the relief that should've taken over Jack was stopped short when he saw who stood before him.

"Hey, Hot Shot..." the newsie leader mumbled, hating that this boy was still in here. It must've been months since this kid had last seen his brothers.

The boy he was speaking to was extremely Italian. His hair was greasy black and his skin an olive kind of color. But there were terrible round scars making their way up the boy's body. Scars that still hurt. Jack wished he could get all these kids out of here. But at the moment, he had one priority.

"Hey, Kelly... one a' your boys get taken in again?"

It was true. That would be the only reason Jack was standing where he was standing, his cap pulled down further and further over his eyes, trying to conceal himself Incase someone unexpected came in.

"Yeah," the leader nodded, shakily. If Hot Shot was asking, that meant he hadn't seen him. That meant the Race could already be gone... "Racer, actually... ya know where he'd be?"

For a moment, Hot Shot's eyes widened, before he caught himself, figuring that Jack's panic and worry wouldn't be improved by a sudden change of expression. "The Racer kid is here?" he asked, still in somewhat of disbelief.

If there was one thing a Brooklyn boy would know about Jack Kelly, it was that he never let Racetrack out of his sight. Race and Crutchie were always somewhere around him and he made sure neither one of those kids ever saw the inside of these walls. Crutchie, because he was already a crippled kid and wouldn't last long with boys who wouldn't ban together. And Race because... well, actually only Jack and Race knew the answer to that one.

Jack sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, stress coming in to eat him alive. "Yes! Do you know where he'd be?" His stress and panic came in full. Jack was terrified.

"Okay, okay!" Hot shot raised his hands up in a sign of surrender. Jack had never been this stressed about a boy being in the Refuge. Normally he'd bring them food and water and some blankets for all the boys to share. But right now, he seemed beyond stressed. More like the Kelly version of actually scared. "I ain't seen him... but..." the Italian boy scratched the back of his neck. He could see how anxious Jack was to know that his brother was still okay. He hated to be the bearer of bad news. But if that kid wasn't in one of the rooms, there was only one other place he'd be. "Word 'round the dinin' hall's that the Spida's got a new pet..."

The pang that shot through Jack's heart hurt like hell...

_"Jack, they'll find out who I am. My picture was in the papers. Snyder's been looking for me for years..."_

Snyder knew who Race was. And he was doing awful things. Jack knew it.

"He been here for a few days?" Jack just nodded mutely at the question, not liking the sigh he got after that. "Three days ago, someone was screamin' real bad. Could hear him everywhere... kept askin' someone ta let him out and sayin' things in Italian... sayin' things like it wasn't his fault an' he didn' do nothin'..." It must've never occurred to Hot Shot that that could've been Race. The Brooklyn boy and Jack's brother were both gamblers, not to mention they both spoke fluent Italian. They got along very well when they weren't trying to beat the crap out of each other. "No one heard from the kid since... he ain't anyone down here..."

"I gotta get ta him..." Jack whispered brokenly as the news hit him hard. "Please... tell me there's a way I can get ta him..."

Stunned, Hot Shot stared at the fearless leader for a moment. He was terrified. He was truly, utterly terrified of what he might find. But after letting his shock subside a bit, he nodded. "Second to top floor. There's an abandoned room, the window was neva' fixed. Great way in, but ya can't get back out. Once the doors shut, they's lock ya inside."

Jack shook his head. "I don't care 'bout that. I just need ta get ta Racer... I'll figure the rest out lata'..." With that, Jack made a move to run to the room his friend spoke of, but he stopped. Turning back to the window, he spit in his hand and held it out through the bars for the boy to shake. "Thanks, Hot Shot. Any word for Spotty?"

The Italian boy let himself grin at that. "Tell 'im his second's only a week away from beatin' his ass at poka' again..."

The two shook hands, both with wild grins on their faces. "Sure thing, pal. See ya then." And then Jack took of running.

Snyder watched his play thing like a hawk. He had his prey tied down and weak and there was nothing anyone could do about it. He was happily watching the boy struggle for consciousness once again. The kid was chained to a chair, his hands behind him and his ankles spread apart at the legs of the uncomfortable wooden thing. His hands and wrists were raw and his knees were bloodied from more than the beating he'd been given when he'd first arrived. The boy's eyes drearily slid open. And the first thing he did was try and move, causing himself further pain and a small, weak cry.

"Good morning," Snyder greeted, his smile fake and menacing. Race gasped, trying to back away, only to find that he couldn't. "I wouldn't try to fight it, if I were you. You'll only make it worse..."

Not having much of an option, Race obeyed, silently looking up with broken, terrified blue eyes, at the man that was doing this to him. A man that was no better than his father.

Taking a quick glance around the room, the boy was stunned to find that what had once just been an office, was now a chamber of torture designed specifically for him. Weapons decorated the room; Whips, knives, candles... everything that had once been in a basement that he was locked in from the day he was born.

"You're such a mess, Anthony. We should clean you up a bit..."

Race didn't like the sound of that. But before he could question anything, his chair was leaned back and he gasped, bracing himself for impact of the floor. It never came. A guard held his chair in position before a cloth was thrown over his face. It was then that Race knew what was coming.

As the freezing cold liquid hit him, he screamed, gasping for air when he could and fighting against the restraints that wouldn't budge. He couldn't breathe. He was shaking with nerves, cold and hunger and his head was pounding from a beating and lack of food and air. His whole body ached with pain and starvation and he couldn't fight against the men that were torturing him for something he didn't do.

After what felt like hours, his chair hit the ground with a thud and Race coughed up his lungs, trying to get the water out of them so he could breathe again. For a second, he thought Snyder might be giving him a break. That was before he felt something hot push against his shoulder. With his throat completely raw, his scream was hardly audible. It wasn't long before Snyder was kneeling in front of him, smoking a cigarette and blowing that smoke in his face. Race coughed more. He tried to wiggle away from the man, but didn't succeed in his fight.

"Don't try and leave so soon, Higgins... I'm just getting started with you..." Snyder teased before pressing the thing in his hand against the same spot on the child's shoulder. "And tonight, when your being buried, you'll be begging for death to come sooner..."

All the kid could do was scream.

True to his friend's word, Jack was able to slip into the abandoned room. The window was broken. But as he slipped through the door, letting it close behind him, he was locked in the hallway, unable to get back out.

Jack didn't have time to be scared. All he could do was stay low and make his way through the prison quick. He had to get to Race. He had to get to his brother.

Screams made their way through the halls and Jack's blood ran cold. He knew that voice. He knew those screams. "Race..."

As guards rounded the corner, Jack threw himself into a different hallway, concealing himself from view. He pressed his back firmly up against the wall and held his breath, trying to keep quiet.

"That really the Higgins kid?" one guard asked, slightly astonished.

"Sure is," the other answered. "Did ya see him? He looks exactly like the guy. If ya ask me, he deserves every bit of what he's gettin'."

Jack's skin began to crawl at the words. But all he could do was stay quiet and listen intently. "The devil's in him. I don't blame the guy either. What's he plannin' on doin' with him though? Hangin'?"

_No... no no no no no..._

"Nah... Snyder had someone out diggin' yesterday. That box he kept the kid in? I think he's gonna bury the kid with it."

Jack's eyes widened. He'd never known anyone could be so increasingly cruel. After all the torture his brother was already going through, Jack was not about to let him be buried alive. No way in hell. "Hold on, kiddo... 'm comin'..." And with that, the sneaking continued.

Race was helpless and exhausted when he was thrown back into the box. His skin was burning and somehow he still felt like he was drowning. He didn't protest when the lid was locked back over him. He didn't start screaming and he didn't kick the wood, trying to make it break. He just lay there and reminded himself that he couldn't breathe properly even if he tried. He was the devil. He deserved this.

His back hurt more than anything, but Snyder didn't seem to care. Just threw him onto it without a second thought. And Race didn't move. The pain was overwhelming. All the kid could do to try and block it out was close his eyes.

_"Hello? I know you're out there..."_

_Little Anthony shook and tried to hide himself further in the corner he cowered in. The woman... she was still inside that box. She was weak and tired and his father would come back soon and throw Vinnie back inside. He was sure they'd gone looking for the woman who'd abandoned them again. But the woman in the box kept talking when she was met with the silence._

_"My name is Sophia... I know you're out there..."_

_Still, Anthony was too scared to move. He didn't want his papa to find him or hear him talking to his next subject. He'd surely get punished really badly for it. So he just sat and waited, squeezing his eyes shut and praying for a way out._

_"Can you just... just tell my brother that I love him?"_

_Sobs wracked his little body as he tried to hold them in. He was too small and weak for that. So he just let the tears fall._

_"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."_

Race was about a second from passing out. About a second away from just letting the darkness take him before he was buried in a shallow grave where no one would ever find him. No one would know what happened to him. He'd just become another ghost story that went around Lodge. That is, as long as the boys cared to even remember him.

"I'm so sorry..."

The child let his eyes slide closed. He tried to enjoy the silence in that moment. The one that he sincerely hated. The silence that was pure torture for him. He attempted to be grateful for it. He tried to imagine his boys, running around and screaming with each other and messing with each other's things. He tried to picture Jack there to tell them to-

_Bang_

With a jump and a gasp, those broken blue eyes shot wide open and Race let out a pained whine. "Please just stop... please just let me die... I'm sorry..."

_Bang_

But that didn't sound like Snyder.

"No way in hell, Racer."

_Jack._

If he'd had the energy or the ability, Race would've screamed in relief. He would've cried out his brother's name as he heard his voice. He would've started crying with tears of fear and pure joy at the thought of getting out of there. He heard six bangs before the lid of the box was thrown aside.

The kid was hysterical. As soon as the box was opened words were spewing from his lips, quiet and weak, but frantic. Race wasn't looking at him. His eyes darted around the entire room and he breathed hard before being thrown into a fit of coughs. His language was mixed between Italian and English and the older boy couldn't understand a word of what he said.

"Race! Racer! I need ya ta calm down, alright?" Jack took hold of the boy's shoulders, holding him down. He'd snuck into the office right as Snyder was going down for dinner they had approximately thirty minutes to get out of there. But if someone heard them, it was all over. They'd both be dead by the next morning.

He pushed Race down only for the boy to let out a pained scream. Jack's heart shattered. But he didn't have time to dwell on it. He needed to get the younger boy out of there. So he quickly surveyed all the damage he could see. The kid was covered in blood. Most of it was dry by then. But what had Jack really worried were his little brother's wrists.

Skin was cut through on all sides. The poor kid had them cradled to his chest in as much protection as he could. Blood had been seeping down his arms as the cuffs dug into wrists, cutting off all circulation. "Kid..." he breathed, reaching down to try and get a better look at them. He was met with a violent flinch. "Can ya move 'em?"

A sob tore from Race's throat. "It hurts, Jack..." he whimpered honestly, too scared and weak to do much else.

"I know, buddy... it's okay... don' move..." Jack reached down and ran a gentle hand through Race's matted hair, hating the shiver it sent down the sixteen year old's body. He had no doubt that the kid was in so much pain he wouldn't be able to walk. He didn't care. He was getting Race out one way or another.

It didn't take long for Jack to find the keys. Snyder liked to keep them in plain sight. He liked to let his kids know that their freedom was just barely out of reach. And Jack wasted no time rushing back to his friend and shushing him as he quickly unlocked the bloodied cuffs. The ones around his ankles came off first. They weren't so bad. Just a few irritated marks and a cut or two. Frankly, Jack was beyond terrified to touch Race's wrists.

"I'm so sorry, pal..." that was the only warning Race got before Jack grabbed onto his wrists and Race bit down on his lip to keep in his screams. When Jack got them off, he threw them to the side and tenderly held his brother's hand between his own. "You're okay, kid... it's okay..." Jack tried to soothe as Race sobbed and tried to breathe, only resulting in coughing some more. He was choking up water. And that was enough to scare Jack.

"It's hard ta breathe..." the beaten child breathed out brokenly. "It _hurts_ , Jack..."

"I know, kid..." Jack whispered. He bent down into the box to help the boy. He ignored Race pleads for him to get out. To just leave him there before something worse happened. He gently forced the boy into a sitting position and then he hoisted the kid up into his arms. Race whimpered and nothing could've broken Jack's heart more. "I'm gettin' you outta here. It's all gonna be okay..."

Or, so he thought. Because all too soon, footsteps were heard and a voice was booming through the halls. Jack didn't pay much mind to what was being said. He was too busy panicking as terrified blue eyes locked on the door. They had seconds before both of them were lost to the world.

A grin was on Snyder's lips as he opened the door to his office, like he had so many times before. Only this time, when he shoved the door open, he was expecting to see the boy he'd been searching for for so long locked up in a box. He hadn't been expecting for that box to be broke open and empty.

"Dammit!" His scream grabbed the attention of every guard in the building. "Find him!" It was his only command. He didn't care about much else. He wanted that boy dead. And so help him, that was how the night would end.

Jack held Race tight to him, a hand pressed over the boy's mouth to keep him quiet and the other secured around his waist, gently. He was so scared of hurting the boy or suffocating him, so he glanced down at him every few seconds to make sure he was still ok. They were beneath the Spider's desk. They had no where left to go.

_Please... this kid has already been through too much..._

Jack didn't know if he was even praying at that point or just ready to start begging Snyder to see that this kid was only just that; A kid. A kid who'd seen and been through so much in his small life. None of this was his fault.

He could feel the smaller boy shake against him. His thin body could only take so much. So he whispered a plea for his brother to stay quiet. The boy silently turned further into him and weakly grasped at his shirt to try and calm himself down. He could practically feel Snyder staring down the room before he let out an angry grumble and turned and left. Because surely, Race wouldn't still be in his office.

When Jack's hand fell from the beaten boy's face, Race let out another sob. He held to Jack as tightly as he could when the older boy carefully crawled from their hiding place, still holding the younger boy in his arms, the kid latching his weak legs around his waist and his arms around the older boy's neck. "We're gonna get outta here, I promise..."

There was no good escape. Every way would be messy. Every way would make noise that would give them away. Jack just had to be fast enough. He could do it...

For _Race_ , he could do it.

The boy whined as Jack laid him down on the floor. He muttered something about his back. Jack didn't have time to understand what it meant. He quickly and quietly ran to the door. He locked it without hesitation. The room was quiet then. Jack could hear the sound of Race wheezing. The kid needed out of there. He was fading fast. Every few seconds, a labored breath would take over the room and Jack would just stop and watch Race to make sure his chest continued moving. Whatever had happened to Race would take a long time to heal. Jack wasn't sure that the trauma would ever actually die.

"It's okay, pal... I'm gettin' you out..." the seventeen year old assured as he rushed over to the window. The window in Snyder's office didn't open. It was like the man simply had a distaste for fresh air. Jack had never been so grateful that the room he hated so much was on the ground floor. _This is for Racer, Jackie... you can do this..._

A breath was let out slowly from Jack's lips before he prepped himself in a ready position for what he was about to do next. He braved himself and prepared for impact as he broke through the glass with his elbow, letting out a cry when the glass shattered, possibly cutting into his arm as he tried to duck out of the way. It wasn't long before the commotion outside the door froze for a moment. But the boy didn't have time to stop. He didn't have time to think. He simply let his heart beat out of his chest when there was banging at he door and he scooped his little brother back up into his arms.

"Let's go home, kid..." And with that, he was running to the broken opening in the wall with the limp body in his arms weighing just about nothing. His adrenaline kept him going and gave him strength he needed more than anything else.

Snyder broke the door down. He screamed when he saw the mess that was his sanctuary. The boy that was the last way he could avenge his beloved Sophia, was gone. And the man exploded. " _Find him_!" he ordered once more, more urgently and angrily. "So help me God, Higgins... I will find you and I will kill you..."

And that was a promise.

The night was a long and hard one. Jack was no idiot. They'd be looking. Snyder wasn't one to give up easily. So they stayed hidden. Jack did what he could. He tore apart his own clothing to make bandages for Race. He found water and tried to wash away the relentless blood from his nose and mouth, allowing the kid to drink some as well. They stayed very near to the Refuge. A place no one would look for them. They hid with the horses, sitting in an empty pen. The creatures were sure as hell nicer than the people. And water wasn't far away.

It wasn't long, however, before Jack was panicking.

"J-Jack..." The kid couldn't even bring his hands up to touch the older boy. Jack had to drop everything and help him. He brought Race's fingers up to his face and held them underneath his chin for a moment, letting the kid know he was there before placing them back down on the smaller boy's chest.

"Shush, Racer... you're gonna be okay..."

He wasn't okay. That was a complete and utter lie. Race was a disaster. The boy would have nightmares for the rest of his life, Jack was sure of that much. Not to mention the injuries that Jack- a seventeen year old boy- was trying to treat now were more than likely life threatening.

The kid winced after a moment and closed his eyes. Jack's heart was beating so fast and hard he feared it would somehow break from his chest. The kid's breathing was slowing down from its previous odd patterns and strangled gasps of air. But before Jack could start begging Race to open his eyes back up again and to just hold on, the small, shaky voice met his ears...

"Jack... do ya think I got the devil in me?"

Jack hated the relief that flooded through him at the awful question. While it was horrific and beyond sickening, at least the boy was talking.

Before Jack answered, he began reaching for the boy's shirt. He had to take it off. The kid was more than likely a mess under there. With the awkward way he tried to lay on his side Jack almost had no doubt that the Spider took out his most dreaded weapon: His whip. It was kept under lock and key for the man's absolute favorite toys. Jack had been one of them. He had prayed every day that Race would not be.

God hadn't heard him.

"What're ya talkin' 'bout, Racer?" Jack tried to brush it off as nothing. That was hard when the boy on the ground in front of him had a voice that sounded like sandpaper. The kid had probably been screaming more than he ever had before.

"Why did ya take me in, Jackie?" Race croaked out, his eyes still refusing to open back up. He couldn't hold them open anymore. "My pa-"

"Ain't you, Race." Jack gently worked on peeling the kid's clothes off as he spoke with a kind of warning tone. Race shouldn't be thinking like that. Race was a good kid with a past that shouldn't belong to him. "You are not him. You are Racetrack. It don' matta' none what your last name is or ain't."

Anthony Higgins was a scared kid. He had died on the night that Jack had chased him away. Racetrack was different. He was anything but quiet. He lived for poker and dice and any other gambler's game he could get his hands on. He protected his own and made sure everyone else knew it. He was a force to be reckoned with. He was Jack Kelly's little brother.

And Jack feared he might not make it through the night.

"Racer, ya gotta stay awake, okay kid? Just a little longa' and I'll take ya home…"

But he was too late. Race was out cold. The only comfort that Jack had was his chest, unsteadily rising and falling. There wasn't much the older boy could do but continue on. He carefully turned Race over, placing his own torn up shirt under the kid's head. Then he stared at the sight that met him. The once white undershirt was crimson and Jack couldn't move for a moment. "Please keep breathin', kid…" he forced out in a broken voice. Then he gingerly tore the soaked shirt off of the bloody skin of his little brother. A more horrific sight may never meet his eyes.

Lashes covered his back, but Jack had been expecting those for sure. What tore his heart out and ripped it to pieces was what else would be engraved in the kids skin forever. In marks that Jack was sure were burns created by a hot iron were five, ugly, awful letters. The were just below Race's shoulders and Jack couldn't help the cry that escaped his lips.

**_D-E-V-I-L_ **

His hand hovered above the awful markings. They were swollen and would likely get infected if Jack didn't do something quick, but Jack was too stunned to move for a moment. A man… a monster had written a nightmare on a child and there was no way to get rid of it. Those scars would haunt Race more than the ones he'd already had. Jack had no doubt about that.

Quickly, Jack grabbed the rag he'd been using and began to clean the wound, trying in vain to stop the tears from streaming down his face.

This is what people thought of a little boy who had done no wrong. This was what people saw when they recognized him. This could give him away. And Jack hated it.

Leaning down to press a kiss into his little brother's hair, all Jack could do was whisper, "I'm so sorry, little brotha'…" Before he heard voices outside their safe place. And then, Jack was left with the only option he ever had. "It'll be okay, I promise…" He threw Race over his shoulder and did what every newsie did best.

He ran.

He ran, praying that for once God would hear him. For once God would see a hurting little boy who needed help and let them go home. And after years and years of disappointments and angry screams to the heavens…

Two little boys made it home with secrets still intact and scars that were to stay hidden.

That night was the first of many long ones. The screams always started out quiet before the vivid vision became more real and more haunting. That's how the boys found them, curled up on Jack's bunk, watching Racetrack try and get the horrible dream to stop and just get out of his brain. That's how Racetrack would spend every night for the next two months. Unable to sleep and in pain when he moved the wrong way.

The scars haunted him. They always would. But for now, no one could see them but him and Jack. No one could know the horrors that Race was forced to relive in a matter of days. He made sure to never take his shirt on within sight of another newsie. He made sure to hide it as best he could.

As they lay there that night- Race clinging to life as Jack just held him and did everything he could to stop it all- Jack whispered a promise into Race's blond curls...

"I ain't gonna let him touch ya again, kid..." he swore. "I'm gonna kill 'im... I'm gonna kill the _damn_ Spider."

And that was a promise.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now it's actually the end ;). I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I had way too much fun writing it!
> 
> If you have any requests feel free to send them my way! I will add them to my running list and I swear they will get written. Thank you so much!
> 
> Alright,
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies!

**Author's Note:**

> The end.
> 
> Okay I'm just kidding! There is indeed a part two to this ;) It was just a very long one shot and I figured I should split it up a little bit.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, kids!


End file.
